Page 85 of What About Love

“Don’t you dare cry,” Joanna ordered. “You can’t give the little prick the satisfaction.”

A drunken laugh bubbled up inside her. “I think that’s probably the first time little and prick were used in the same sentence when referring to T.”

“Good to know, Ang, and we will talk about that more in-depth later,” Megan cut in as she moved around the table and took the seat beside her, “but Joanna’s right. I know it’s hard, but keep your head high, honey.”

“Like you didn’t cry over Cap?”

“I did, but I also told him to go fuck himself when he cut me off at the knees. He did that once to me. T has done it repeatedly, hasn’t he?”

She nodded, choking back a sob. “I need another drink.”

“No!” This came in a chorus of cries from around her.

Lexie pulled out the chair on her other side and slid into it as she slipped a sympathetic arm around her shoulders. “You need to find another dom right away. Show him what he’s giving up and he’ll be back.”

“No. She needs to find a dom who’ll appreciate all that she is and make her forget Lil T ever existed,” Mara countered.

“Either way,” Joanna said with a glint in her eye, “she needs another dom. Now. And I have the perfect one in mind.” She rose to her feet, combing the crowded lounge until she found who she was looking for. Her smile filled with an unholy light as she leaned forward and squeezed both of Angie’s hands. “He’s perfect, and he’s got a sexy French accent. He’ll either have T ready to rip his head off in a jealous rage and claiming you as he should, or you’ll leave here tonight with a well-satisfied smile on your face shouting, ‘Viva La France.’”

She straightened, smoothing down her dress and hair, still flawless despite her set of table dancing and panty-melting kisses.

“It’s a win-win,” she added, giving Angie a wink. “Don’t let her drink anymore,” she cautioned the other girls. “I’ll be right back.”

The table of submissives watched as their de facto leader, stunningly turned out in a clingy backless black dress and crimson stiletto heels, glided across the lounge, turning heads as she passed despite her rapidly approaching fifty-fourth birthday.

“Damn,” Angie slurred. “I want to be her when I grow up.”

The rest of them nodded in full agreement.

Chapter 20

IT WAS ALMOST TEN O’CLOCKwhen he walked through the front doors in a foul mood. An hour on the road to Ft. Worth, he’d turned around when the bondsman called to let him know his skip was apprehended.

He should have gone straight home, but knowing Angie would be here, along with fifty of the club’s available doms hungry for submissive ass to beat and pussy to fuck, or vice versa, he’d been unable to resist coming to keep an eye on her. Although he didn’t have that right.

Without a word to anyone, he strode to the bar with one intent, to take the edge off his self-directed anger with large quantities of alcohol. Ben slid a draft in front of him without asking. He downed half of it before swiveling on his stool, his back to the bar. Scanning the lounge, he easily located the girls’ table.

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